


Spring is in the Air

by can_i_slytherin



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Derek Hale Loves Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Established Relationship, Fluff, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mates Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Post-Season/Series 01 Finale, Scent Marking, Scenting, Stiles Stilinski Has ADHD, Stiles Stilinski Loves Derek Hale, True Mates, Underage Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:41:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29590875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/can_i_slytherin/pseuds/can_i_slytherin
Summary: It was the way his fingers twitched at his sides, aching to reach out and touch, to hold. It was how he always took an unconscious step towards Derek when they were in danger, seeking comfort, but also protection; seeking him.*~*~*~Or,Derek has always believed that he should stay alone, maybe Stiles can convince him otherwise.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 7
Kudos: 143





	Spring is in the Air

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work in the Teen Wolf Fandom, so the boys might be a bit OOC. But, happy reading!

Derek Hale was told from a young age that love was dangerous, it made you weak and vulnerable. Love could cause you to get distracted and get someone hurt. It’s better to be lonely than to have someone and get them torn away in a horrible fashion. 

Being a werewolf was a dangerous lifestyle, there was always something, or someone, ready to kill you and to place someone else into the path of destruction as well was just counterproductive. 

Yes, it was a lonely life, but it was better than immeasurable heartbreak. 

And, despite how much he told Scott the same about Allison, it was never for him. It was so Derek could convince himself that the heat building in his stomach and the softness in his heart was  _ bad _ . 

It was a terrible, awful, no good feeling and he needed to stop before the enviable happened. 

Before precious, bright, bubbly Stiles Stilinski lost some of that untameable shine. 

Stiles smelt like spring; like the crisp, fresh water of an unfrozen river; the first bloom of an apple blossom; the sweet, delicate flesh of the season’s first fruit. He smelt like safety, like  _ home and mate and mine.  _ It was scary and addictive and calming all at the same time. It was an anchor in the rough sea that was Derek’s mind and kept him bound to reality; kept him safe and sane. 

But, it wasn’t just Stiles’ scent. There was so much more about the human that made Derek able to zero in on him, even in a room full of a thousand people. 

Stiles’ heart was just faster than everyone else’s, the pent-up energy coursing through his veins made sure of that. But, he was always moving, tapping on the table with his nails or rubbing his hands along his thighs or bouncing his knee. Those little things, little tics, made Derek’ own heart beat double-time, swelling with fondness and affection and making him want to  _ protect _ . Stiles was his and he would never be hurt. 

But, it was more than that. It was the way his pupils dilated every time he laid eyes on Derek, the way his lips parted just a fraction to allow a gasp to slip from them. It was the way his fingers twitched at his sides, aching to reach out and touch, to hold. It was how he always took an unconscious step towards Derek when they were in danger, seeking comfort, but also protection; seeking  _ him.  _ It was how, whenever they were separated, Stiles would sag and let out a relieved breath when he saw him again. How he would never give up; when he got an idea in his head, a thought, a feeling, a notion, he would hold onto it in a vice-like grip and never let go.

It was everything. It was  _ Stiles.  _

But, it was Derek too. The way that his fingers twitched too, reaching for him when he was in danger, wanting to keep him safe. It was how his own heart raced when he felt Stiles’ breath on the back of his neck, or his fingers brush Derek’s sleeve. It was the longing and yearning in his very soul when he caught a whiff of that delicious spring scent, when he heard that just-faster heartbeat, when he felt his warmth just a few inches away. It was the instinct to scent and claim whenever someone else touched him, when someone  _ hurt  _ him. It was the burning need and desire. The all-out war that waged inside his mind, the restraint to keep him from touching, from taking, from claiming. 

Derek was Stiles’, as much as Stiles was his. 

But, he could never know. Nothing could ever come of it, because it was dangerous. Stiles would inevitably be hurt or, worse, killed, and Derek would be without  _ home and mate and mine _ . 

It was too risky. 

Derek had lost too much already. He wouldn’t lose Stiles, ever. 

However, there was only so long that Derek could deny what he wanted. His instinct. His  _ mate _ . 

And all it took was Peter Hale- his not-comatose uncle and, quite frankly deranged, murderous alpha. 

It ended with flames, just as it had started. With orange and red, and heat and burning. With the scent of blood and death, and fear in the air. 

It ended with blue turning red. With Beta turning Alpha. With a growl and a warning. 

It ended with his pack safe. With  _ Stiles  _ safe, and that was all that mattered. Him, healthy, happy and alive. 

It ended with Stiles. It always did. The track of his gaze, making sure he was there, that he was in one piece and unharmed. 

Stiles’ scent had soured during the fight, fear bleeding in to sabotage its saccharinity, but it slowly filtered out, bringing the aroma that Derek had come to, secretly, love. He took comfort in it, letting it fill his lungs and caress his very soul with its serenity. 

With his head thick and cloudy with Stiles’ smell, he closed his eyes, listening to the thump of his heart, it's just-faster rhythm soothing him even further. He heard the shuffling of his feet through the dead leaves as he shifted restlessly, the  _ hyperactivity  _ of his ADHD making it hard for him to stay still for longer periods of time. 

Every atom of his existence filled with all things Stiles and the newly-presented alpha disappeared, giving way to Derek’s human side, grounding him in the moment. 

“Stiles,” he breathed, quiet enough that no one would hear. But, he forgot that he wasn’t the only wolf and Scott huffed an amused breath. 

“You should go to him,” Scott whispered under his breath, his voice carrying across the small copse of trees. 

“No,” he growled in protest. 

“Fine, I’ll send him to you,” he whispered back. 

There was the sound of clicking, followed by a long moment of silence, and then Stiles moved, the leaves under his feet rustling, despite how hard he tried to stay quiet. 

That was another thing that he loved about his mate. Stiles always tried to beat his enhanced senses, but he never did. Derek was too familiar was his scent and his heartbeat to not know where he was at any given time. 

“Hey, Sourwolf,” he was only standing a few inches away, his fingers twitching, aching to touch, to feel. Derek could feel his warmth, taste his honeyed scent on his tongue, could hear the thump of his heart, a touch faster than normal through nerves. 

Derek could barely hold himself back anymore. Couldn’t find the self-restraint to stop himself from spinning around, pinning Stiles to a tree and burying his face in his neck. He rubbed there insistently, spreading his scent over Stiles’, marking Stiles’ as his without giving him a Claiming Bite. He stayed there for a moment, nosing at his scent gland and growling contentedly at the combination of them on his skin. 

“I’m sorry,” Derek whispered, his voice nothing more than a low growl. 

“Don’t be,” Stiles’ voice sounded thick and strained. 

Derek never thought that Stiles’ scent could get sweeter, but it did. The treacly arousal bled in and made Derek’s heart swell. He was doing this to his mate, making him smell good enough to eat. 

“I-” Derek cut himself off, unable to say the words aloud. 

“I know,” Stiles soothed, wrapping his fingers through the strands of hair at the back of Derek’s head to keep him where he was. “You’ve tried so hard to stay away. You’ve always been told that love is dangerous, but it’s not. It’s the only thing that’s worth fighting for, the only thing that keeps us alive. You and Scott wouldn’t have fought as hard as you did if you didn’t have love.” 

“Stiles-” 

He refused to let himself be cut off. “No, listen to me, Derek, listen to my heart, to my voice. I need you to know that I’m not lying,” Derek nodded and pulled away, eyes flashing red at Stiles’ dilated pupils before he zeroed in on his heartbeat. Just as fast as normal, but strong. 

“I love you,” Stiles continued. “I might be 16, but I know that I fell for you the moment I saw you in the preserve. I never believed in love at first sight, Derek, but you proved me wrong. But, whatever you’ve been telling yourself to keep the distance between us is wrong. I’m not afraid of you; I’ve never felt safer than when I’m with you. I’m not going to leave; I’m, in fact, quite attached to you, Sourwolf. I want you as much as you want me, my mate.” 

Derek’s head snapped towards him at the last two words. His heartbeat was still as strong, still the same pace. No lilts, no jolts; exactly the same. There was no lie. Stiles was his mate, and he was Stiles’. 

“Mate,” Derek growled, eyes bright and red, but never more himself. 

“Mate,” Stiles agreed, tipping his head upwards a few centimetres to get at Derek’s neck, rubbing his face against Derek’s scent gland, marking him as his without a Claiming Bite. 

It was a glorious feeling. Something indescribable and unbeatable. 

To be accepted, to be scent-marked and claimed. To be wanted and needed and loved. To have a mate. 

Derek pulled Stiles away and pressed their foreheads together. “Mine,” he rasped, rubbing their noses together. 

“Mine,” Stiles repeated. 

When spring is in the air, there is beauty and warmth around. When Stiles is there, there is warmth and love in Derek, unlike anything he had ever experienced; because Stiles is his and he is Stiles’. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey again! I hope you liked it! Feel free to leave kudos and comments.   
> Happy Reading!!


End file.
